Goodbye My Lover
by Insomniabug aka BabyBrown
Summary: A memory flashes in her mind's eye of a similar moment shared between them only weeks earlier. A sweet kiss beside a grave, his bloody palm firmly pressed against her jaw. It had been an omen, for now his blood...will forever mark her. Takes place after 1x10. (MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH.)


**title**: _Goodbye My Lover_  
><strong>pairing<strong>: Mary/Bash  
><strong>summary<strong>: _A memory flashes in her mind's eye of a similar moment shared between them only weeks earlier. A sweet kiss beside a grave, his bloody palm firmly pressed against her jaw. It had been an omen, for now his blood...will forever mark her._ Takes place after 1x10.  
><strong>word count<strong>: 1100  
><strong>warning<strong>: major character death

**A/N**: I've only seen three episodes of this show but for some reason these two GOT ME GOOD. I suspect this will be my one and only fic for this show, but who knows! Please let me know if they seem OOC or if I'm missing some detail from canon - I'd really appreciate the feedback!

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><p>They had been caught in an ambush on the way back from visiting Diane in Paris, and Bash had stepped before an arrow meant for her. They had managed to find a small cottage where Alec and the women who lived there quickly went to work on Bash's injuries. While luckily the arrow hadn't pierced his heart, there was still too much damage inflicted on his lung. Alec gave him half an hour at best.<p>

"Bash, I'm so sorry." Mary's voice is heavy with unshed tears, her eyes unable to look away from the open wound on his chest.

"Not your fault." Bash's speech is slurred, the herbs previously administered quickly taking effect. Mary only hopes the pain is lessened.

"If I hadn't pressured you into this, forced you to put Francis' life before your own-" He interrupts her.

"I believe we have had this talk before…many times actually." His mouth twists up into a pained smile, his face unnaturally pale from the blood loss. "It was my choice…and one I would gladly make again." Even on his deathbed he is still trying to put her at ease, and it makes Mary want to scream at the injustice of it all.

"_Bash_." Hot tears obscure her vision and she blinks furiously in order to clear them away.

"I _will_ miss the way you say my name." He chuckles, his laugh turning into a hacking cough that pierces her soul. Sweat beads on his skin as his fever worsens. The wife of the man who owns the cottage comes closer to wipe his face, but Mary intercepts her and takes the cloth from her hands. She motions for the girl and all the other occupants to leave the room, wanting nothing more than to spend what are to be his last moments alone. She wants no prying eyes to gossip over the final moments of the bastard son who had reached too high.

None of them would ever know the truth, and even if they did, they would never believe it. No one would believe that the crown was the last thing Bash had ever wanted for himself. How his father had forced him into this arrangement…because of her love for his brother.

"Shh. You must rest and conserve your energy." Mary says, tenderly patting his face dry and wiping the blood off his chin with a trembling hand. She can feel his stunning blue eyes staring up at her, eyes which always had the power to look right into the very essence of her being...but she can't bear to meet them. Guilt threatens to consume her whole and she fears for her immortal soul.

"Promise me...one thing." He says slowly, his voice getting weaker by the second.

"Anything." If she could move heaven and earth to stop this man from dying, she would.

"Marry Francis." Of course the one thing he asks for is the one thing she can't give him.

"You know I can't. The prophecy."

"_Forget the bloody prophecy._" He grits out and she's momentarily taken aback by the sudden strength and conviction in his voice.

"He'll die." Shame blazes through her the moment the words leave her mouth. How can she worry about another man's prophesied fate while Bash is wasting away right before her very eyes.

"_Mary_..." Bash's voice is laced with unexpected tenderness and she feels her flesh burn with the intensity of his gaze. A weak and bloody hand reaches out and lightly rests against her cheek. Without a moment's hesitation, she places a hand over his and holds it firmly against her face. A memory flashes in her mind's eye of a similar moment shared between them only weeks earlier. A sweet kiss beside a grave. His bloody palm firmly pressed against her jaw. It had been an omen, for now his blood, his _death_, will forever mark her.

"...being married to you, no matter how short a time, is worth dying for."

As Queen, Mary had been taught to accept that her subjects would willingly sacrifice their own lives for her. But she knows she will never accept _this_ death, because Bash was not her subject, he was her husband...even if only for a few weeks.

"Stop." She pleads, unable to fathom a world without him in it. A world swiftly approaching with every labored rise and fall of his chest.

"You'd deny a dying man his last chance to speak of what is in his heart?" He teases, his eyes fluttering with the effort of keeping them open. Gently, so as not to disturb his wound, she places a hand over his breast.

"Bash, I already know what is in your heart. I have always known."

"I suppose that is true." He laughs breathlessly. "I was never quite able to conceal my feelings from you." Thousands of moments, some lasting no more than a second, pass before her eyes. The desire in his gaze when he thought she wasn't looking, the way his fingertips would rest on her lower back as he ushered her out of the room always before him, the powerful beating of his heart beneath her palm when they kissed. It all washes over her like an ocean wave.

"I love you." The words burst from her lips with a surprising amount of determination. It feels like a weight is lifted from her chest as she finally reveals the darkest secret in her heart. For even though she loves Francis with all her soul, loves him enough to sacrifice her own happiness, a part of her would grieve for the life she would now never share with Bash. Grieve for the family she knew he would have always placed before crown and country. Mary had never planned on loving Bash in the way a wife would a husband, but she had...and she suspects she always will.

Mary leans down, listening to a command from her own heart, and softly presses her lips against his, warm and dry from his fever. She pours a lifetime into the kiss…their last kiss.

"What a wonderful death." Bash whispers when she pulls back, his eyes overflowing with the love she knows has always been in his heart for her. His eyes close and Mary notices a peace settle over his features, and her heart pounds painfully in her chest. The time has approached when she would have to say goodbye to him forever.

Resting her forehead against his, tears falling from her eyes down onto his cheeks, she matches her breaths with his...

...until he breathes no more.

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><p><strong>I must have listened to <em>Promise<em> a thousand times since Friday.**

**Please let me know what you think!**


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